


Initializing Connection

by GingerFloof



Series: Compy [1]
Category: Chrono Trigger, Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Borealis - Freeform, F/F, Post-Half-Life 2: Episode Two, Relationship(s), Romance, Science Fiction, Spiritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-24 15:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3773788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerFloof/pseuds/GingerFloof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to the Portal fanfic "Compy." The brilliant scientist Lucca Ashtear makes a discovery that could alter the fate of dimensions- including the world of Portal. But when she is faced with an ultimatum from her mentor, Blethasar, she decides to give up the person she loves most to GLaDOS, and the ramifications change the A.I's life forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forgiveness

I’m not sure if I’m writing this for the fandom or for posterity. I guess it could be a bit of both, right? I mean, when you’ve got a story _this_ unusual to tell, nearly everyone is interested at first.

It’s not every day you meet people from other realities, after all.  
  
Allow me to clarify, since that may not be the best explanation. I, alias Melody Constance, have been hearing things all my life. That’s right, the voices talk to me. I could be your aunt, your friend, your sister, your daughter. That girl sitting across from you on the bus. I could be standing next to you right now holding a private conversation in my head with people you’ve only imagined and you wouldn’t even know it.

Right now, I’m in the Happy Valley of Utah. Mormon Central. It’s a long way from where I started mentally, but the exact same place I started this whole journey physically. Eight years ago, I sat down with a councillor at my local university to discuss why I was failing my classes. She came up with one word that redefined my existence: Psychosis.

See, up until then, I hadn’t considered that my “imaginary friends” were all that unusual. Different maybe, but they certainly didn’t qualify me as a mental case. Did they?

I was wrong. Dead wrong.

The psychosis affected me so badly that I had to quit BYU, take “incompletes” for all my classes, and kiss any dreams I had of becoming a P.H.D. like my parents goodbye.

It wasn’t until I was 22 that I decided to take another crack at the college thing, but this time in a vocational school. The Utah College of Massage Therapy to be exact. It didn’t surprise me when a new presence in my mind began taking notes in my classes, too. However, massage techniques and chi meridians didn’t seem to interest it. It was MY thought processes that interested this being. The mundane, daily facets of my life. I had become a specimen of life in another dimension. A guinea pig. Or, most appropriately, a science project. Lucca Ashtear  was, after all, a scientist.

I remember first looking up her character profile before I launched into Chrono Trigger. I took one look at the official artwork, cocked my head for a few seconds, then laughed out loud. Laughed because she was- there was no other word for it- dorky. Cute, yes, but dorky. That helmet! And those glasses! Neither of them did anything for her. I shook my head, grinning, and went back to my e-mail. Nerd.

Little did I know that I would start using that word as a term of endearment and admiration instead of mockery and bewilderment.

Soon I was caught up in the Chrono Trigger game. I sat transfixed in front of my grandparents computer for hours on end, mesmerized by the music, savoring the storyline, captivated by the characters. Maybe it wasn’t the best thing for an aspiring LMT to do, but my grandparents never seemed to notice. However, there was someone else who did…

So, for the fun of it, I began throwing out tidbits of information she might find interesting. A remix of Pachelbel's Canon in D played by Bond. (“It’s TECHNO music, Lucca. Get it? TECHNO.” “Very funny. Give me a moment to record your transmission.”) A view of the valley as my bus pulled up a steep hill, including the major landmarks. The way the digestive system worked or neurons transmitted information. Random factoids. She ate it all up, but it was with more interest in the information than in myself. I was, after all, just the science project. It was the data that was important.

One day I had to ask the inevitable question, “How?”

“It was the helmet,” she answered.

“Oh?”

“It was originally designed to pick up the basic thought patterns of monsters, so I would be able to predict when they were going to attack. I was tinkering with it and…”

“I see. So I’m under observation now.”

“Yes.”

“Your science project.”

“…You don’t have to put it that way.”

“But that’s the way it is. You don’t care.”

“Yes I do. I’m just…busy.”

“Too busy to care.”

“Will you just…shut it?!”

But I didn’t shut it.  This was a sore point for me. I hated this intrusion on my privacy, on my personal space. On my LIFE. I couldn’t even break wind without someone taking note of it, for Pete’s sake! It was humiliating!

I remember telling my best friend Rose around October that year, when we were making our first futile attempts at cosplay. I was perched in an old recliner in the basement, watching her as she hemmed her Cait Sith cape. “She treats me like a test subject,” I explained. “It just makes me so ANGRY!”

To which Rose replied, “Geez! Tell her to mind her own business,” and went back to hemming the cape.

Neither the cosplay nor the advice went very far, both of which seemed at the time to be unfortunate. But in the long run it turned out for the best. I could have ruined the start of one of the greatest friendships I’ve ever had.

What I didn’t know at the time was that MiyaYoshi and all the other fan fiction authors I had yet to discover were right: Lucca was losing two of her closest friends…to the kingdom and to each other. What the rest of the kingdom saw as a new beginning and the birth of a new era, Lucca saw as the end of good times and the death of her childhood. No wonder Lucca was so prickly. No wonder she needed a diversion. No wonder she could have used a friend…

It all happened so suddenly. I had never been home sick from the Utah College of Massage Therapy before. I had been praying my mental health would never be an issue, like it had at BYU. But there I was in the shower, alone, naked and vulnerable when a malevolent presence approached me.

“Honestly, Lucca, I can understand being observed while I’m having a massage but while I’m the SHOWER?!” I complained.

“Ah, yes, your little friends. How they do bother you…” the being remarked. It’s voice was low, tinged with derisiveness, yet it spoke calmly and confidently.

“What business is it of yours? And who ARE you?” I hedged, getting nervous.

“I can solve your problems. I can make the voices all go away,” it offered.

“Hah. That makes a LOT of sense seeing as YOU’RE a voice!” I retorted.

“You don’t believe me? Perhaps a demonstration is in order.”

As if on cue,  a shuriken sliced down from the heavens, piercing the dark being. Yuffie Kisaragi dropped to the ground beside me, my longtime companion and friend since I was sixteen. Lately I hadn’t seen much of her, but she always came when she sensed danger--  or it could be that she was just looking for a fight.

“Mel, are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah…but I told you to stay out of my head…!” I protested.

“I know, we agreed that was the best thing for both of us, but I also agreed I would protect you.” Then addressing the phantom before us, she demanded, “What do you want from her?!”

In answer, part of the darkness reached out and enclosed Yuffie within it, drawing her inside it and away from me. The shuriken clattered to the ground.

“Melody, help!” She writhed and struggled, arms pinned to her sides.

“Hahaha…if you won’t let me make them go away, I’ll simply TAKE them!”  the dark voice declared.

It contracted and Yuffie gave a wordless wail of pain. I instinctively reached for her and was brushed away like a fly…but in that contact, that simple brush…

A cold black explosion blotting out my vision…

A roaring in my ears…

Dizziness, vertigo…

And…

PAIN

Like a knife to the chest, something was causing shooting, stabbing pain right through my heart. Never before had I experienced physical pain as part of a hallucination. I was terrified beyond words. Whatever this being was, it had powers I had never encountered.

Then it all disappeared and I was back in the shower, shivering violently despite the warm water pouring down my back, giving little, hiccupping, dry sobs as I realized…Yuffie was gone. I couldn’t contact her, couldn’t even sense her presence in my mind. It was as though she had been erased from existence. Wasn’t this what I wanted? part of me asked. NO! the rest of me responded with such vehemence that I actually burst into tears at the thought. “Forgive me, Father,” I cried , huddled in my little corner of the shower. “I don’t have the strength to let them go just yet…Please, just give me the strength to stand up and go on with my day…!”

Somehow I got toweled off, dressed, and managed to call in sick to the school before collapsing into bed again. I don’t remember clearly what happened during the rest of the  day, except that I had to tell a very concerned grandmother that I wasn’t feeling well while giving the vaguest of explanations.

That night though, while curled up in in bed, dreading the next day (or more specifically, my next shower) and trying not to relive my previous one, I felt Lucca awkwardly approach me. Curled on her right side in bed, she refused to look me in the eyes as she said, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I was a coward back there.”

“Oh…?

“I ran and hid while Yuffie stood and fought. And now she’s… she could have been killed! And I did nothing.” Suddenly she was sobbing.

Miss Battle-Hardened Yuffie had always termed me a “softie.” Truth was, I never could stand to see other people suffer. That’s part  of the reason why I became a LMT. And a person in tears…well, I absolutely can’t tolerate that.  I have to take action. And I did.

Before I knew what I was doing I had drawn her close and she was crying into my shoulder while I stroked her hair. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not! I treat you like this and you forgive me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you really mean that?”

I thought about it seriously. I had once heard the same words from a certain ninja. My answer had been the same then.

“Yes,” I repeated. “Yes I do.”

****  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Kiss me Goodbye

**A.N: My headcanon on Lucca and Crono’s realtionship is mostly based off of Myshu (on Fanficion.net) or MiyaYoshi’s (as she calls herself on DeviantArt) stories, “The Diary of Dr. LEA” and “Kiss me Goodbye.” Actually, I have to give her a TON of credit for this chapter and the upcoming chapters, as she has better helped me to grasp the nuances of this particular character’s personality and lifestyle. If any Chrono Trigger fans do happen to stumble across this, I would urge you to look into her work. It is simply phenomenal.**

Melody may not know whether she’s writing for the fandom for for posterity, but let’s just make one thing clear: Lucca the Great is writing for the sake of her admiring fans. I know you’re out there. I’ve seen the fanart (be it flattering or not), the fanfiction (including the lemons--okay, you know what, let’s not go there…) and even (best of all) the _fanclubs._

__

You wanna know how I know all of this? It’s a long story, and I think we’ve got plenty of time. Just hold onto your horses and don’t get your panties in wad trying to figure it all out at once. I am, after all, only the greatest mechanical genius ever to grace the face of my planet. It figures that I’d be two steps ahead of the game the whole time.

For those of you who just came here for the whole Portal shin-dig, I promise you, you will get your cake and lies soon enough. Just bear with me for a second. I also realize that there are some of you who are those...whadda’ya call ‘em’s? The religious fanatics? Right, Mormons. The Brady Bunch on caffeine-- that is, if you guys are even allowed to drink the stuff. Some of you have no idea what’s going on either.

Allow me to introduce myself-- again -- Lucca Ashtear, or if you prefer, (and I do) Lucca the Great. I’m from the game Chrono Trigger, wherein my friends and I saved the world via time-travel. I’m a veritable genius, and can build or repair almost anything using a few spare parts. It’s a pity that I don’t get more recognition in my hometown for what I do-- my name there is mostly synonymous with “explosions” and “ collateral damage.” It’s not my fault that Science involves a certain amount of...experimenting.

So, yeah...experimenting. I’d been doing a lot of reading on “parallel universes”  and the “multiverse theory” back in the summer of 1004 (Which equates to the year 2008 for you. We base our calendar on the founding of the kingdom of Guardia, not some obscure religious concept). I was ready to debunk the whole thing then and there, but of course I had to have some data to work with. Which leads to the aforementioned helmet.

My friend Marle has told me repeatedly not to use things in ways they weren’t intended to be used, mostly when trying to mend my wounds after I’d done exactly that. Luckily my helmet didn’t explode or cause collateral damage, but what it _did_ do freaked me right out, probably worse than if it _had_ exploded.

Placing it on my head heightened my senses, as was usual (which is an added bonus when you’re as myopic as I am. I’m assuming Melody mentioned the nerd glasses-- of course she did, who am I kidding?). And yet, in some strange way, it was more than just _sensing_ things in an ordinary way, with my everyday eyes and ears. I almost felt as though I could see things better with my eyes _closed_ , as though this would stimulate my mental capacity for-- what, exactly?

Ignoring my more rational impulses, I closed my eyes, opened my mind, and-

_“Lucca?”_

I would have screamed, but scientists do not scream at their new discoveries. Instead I calmly wobbled over to my desk and planted my butt in a chair before my legs gave out on me entirely.

_“You’re Lucca, right?”_

I decided that it was irrational for me to respond to a hallucination, or whatever it was, and that my “discovery” would have to be placed under observation. By no means was I going to start talking to myself!

I promptly took of the helmet and stuffed it under the bed.

My curiosity was my downfall. The next morning, I reread the texts on the “multiverse theory” with much less scepticism, put on the helmet, and began to furiously record every scrap of information that came through that voice.

After all, if I was right, I had just made the scientific discovery of a lifetime!

It kept me from thinking about Crono and Marle’s wedding, anyway.

All I cared to know about that wedding was that it was a huge, protracted chore that involved wearing a dress. Not that I have anything against dresses-- it’s just that in my personal, professional opinion, I can be a perfect lady without one, thanks very much.

But nooooo, Marle insisted on dragging me to the tailors for a fitting, anyway, which wouldn’t have been have half as embarrassing if Crono hadn’t tagged along. He laughed like a buffoon the entire time-- like seeing me in a light blue satin ensemble instead of my normal orange, grease-stained tunic was the most hilarious thing in the world.  He drives me crazy- usually in a way that makes me let loose a string of expletives. But then, we wouldn’t be best friends if we didn’t drive each other a little nuts, would we?

The afternoon after the dress debacle,  I was dragging home yet another failed invention from the square, where I had been determined to clear my name of “explosions” and “collateral damage” once and for all. Needless to say, it had failed miserably, on both accounts. I happened to pass Crono, napping in the shade of his favorite tree. The idiot hadn’t even shown up for my presentation! I remember being so worked up that I kicked him, hard, in the ribs. He woke up with a grunt. I proceeded to give him a tongue lashing that ended up turning into a sob-story.

“....and then of course the capacitor overloaded and the stupid thing EXPLODED. I really don’t know why I bother anymore, Crono. ‘Oh look, there goes the crazy Ashtear girl. I wonder what she’ll blow up today?’” I imitated the Mayor for Crono’s benefit. “You’re the only one in this town that puts up with me and _you’re_ running off and marrying a princess!” I pouted (Have I mentioned yet that Marle was the heir to the throne of Guardia?). “I don’t even get a kiss goodbye!”

Crono, who was leaning on his elbows at this point, did the most ridiculous thing he had ever done in his entire life. Rearing up on his haunches, he abruptly pulled me down to his level and kissed me- right on the lips!

****  
  


I would not blush I would _not_ blush _I would NOT blush_ \--  “That was a FIGURE OF SPEECH you--” and here I launched into a string of colorful language that I won’t repeat for the benefit of our Mormon readers.

“You’re cute when you swear,” Crono remarked, and with my face flaming with the fury of a thousand flare spells, I stormed right out of the square and left the remains of my bobsled-o-matic with him.

...Like I said, he drives me crazy. Marle could have him. So why was I dreading the upcoming wedding so much?

My discovery, (who we all know by now as Melody) tried to be sympathetic. _“Losing friends hurts,”_ she remarked.

“You don’t say,” I remarked sourly.

I remained solidly unconvinced that anyone could know what I was going through, until Yuffie met her demise at the hands of that...thing. Melody was heartbroken, I could tell. I remembered Crono’s “death” during our adventures, a death that was only temporary because we had been able to travel to the past to reverse it, and wondered how much more painful it was to lose someone to the void permanently. I realized I was being selfish. Crono wasn’t gone, and he would always be my friend.

So I apologised.

**  
**And as we lay there in bed in her grandparents basement, I thought having an extra friend on hand might not be so bad.


	3. Confirmation

From then on, I was more than just a science experiment.

When I shared my music, Lucca wanted to know WHY I liked it, not just who composed it and what period of history it was from.

When I showed her a view of the valley, she wanted to know where I'd been and what I'd done there, not just the landmarks.

When I told her about the digestive system or neurons, she admitted she hadn't studied much human anatomy and agreed and body systems were much more interesting than memorizing muscle groups.

The monitoring became less constant and intense. Overall, that is. It gradually became less intrusive on the embarrassing things and more focused on the things I did want to share. Eventually it was official: We were friends. It was a funny relationship; the observer drawing support from the observed, but it worked.

 

She was there to kick my butt when I didn't study, and to give me props whenever I aced a test. As usual, she consumed every scrap of information I gave her, but this time more voraciously than ever. She had a sincere interest in my life.

When I graduated from vocational school, however, things went rapidly downhill. Work was so slow I couldn’t pay my rent without my parent’s help, and most of the time my roommates were gone or ignored my presence. I was lonely and missed my family intensely. This time it was Lucca’s turn to be my anchor.

It was at this point we started sleeping together. Not that way, you sickos! The literal way. Sleeping in the same bed. We had discovered early on that through our connection, we were capable of transmitting the sensations of physical touch. Hugs, pats on the back, the occasional poke in the ribs were the norm between us. Now we added cuddles to our repertoire. It was a platonic, big sister-little sister thing, and we both took comfort from it. It eased the nights when I felt lonely for her family or when she felt lonely for her friends.

Eventually I had to move back home when my psychosis rendered me unable to work. The dark voice had become a prominent factor in my life, ridiculing me every time I tried to use my newly earned LMT skills. I walked out on clients in the middle of massages, and consequently began losing them. My employers were forced to let me go.

Life returned to normal. Dull, ordinary, boring, and utterly devoid of the things I most wanted: independence, social status, and romance. Lucca began to get more and more upset and restless. I thought it was reflection and magnification of my own inner worries. I didn’t know these feelings were about to climax in a most stunning way.

One night she was crying on my shoulder as I stroked her hair, just like she had so long ago. Once again she was condemning herself. This time though,  she clung to me with no reservations. I was worried; the sobs wracked her body as she clutched at my shirt. Trying my best to comfort her, I said, “You may be a genius, but you have a heart much bigger than your brain.”

“Oooooh, Melody….” she moaned, then stopped crying. “Do you really mean that?”

There was no hesitation on my part. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

“You’re (sniffle) so sweet (sniffle). I don’t deserve a friend like you.”

“You’ve  got one anyway.”

Finally she was silent, content for the moment to just snuggle. I curled my right arm around the back of her head and rested my chin on top. I was just falling asleep when she flinched and gave a low moan.

I hugged her tighter. “What’s the matter?”

She sighed. “Nothing.”

I closed my eyes again but after a few seconds she continued. “It’s not real enough.”

“Not real enough?” Even then my sleepy brain had an inkling of what she meant, but I was complacent enough not to acknowledge it.

“I want…I want what you and Rose have.”

“Are you jealous of us?”

“I just want…more.”

I myself wasn’t exactly sure what Rose and I had. It was more than a friendship, certainly, and we had even gone so far as to prevent the other from committing suicide if they were so inclined. We both shared our most intimate secrets, down to the fact that I had voices and Rose was becoming more and more depressed as the school year wore on, though her doctors could find no reason why. Rose loved to tease me for not being particularly interested in boys, and I did the same to her. But I had never really given thought to how I defined our relationship.

Lucca was silent  again, and I began to resume dozing. Then out of the blue, she asked, “Shall I seduce you?”

I snorted in response. It was a fairly routine question between me and Rose; a little “game” we liked to play just because it was so utterly ridiculous. We would make up the dorkiest pickup lines we could , and then try to deadpan our way through them as we crawled on top of each other. We never succeeded; we would both end up laughing as one collapsed in a heap on top of the other and then quote each others pick up lines and laugh some more.

Thus I regarded her question with some flippancy. “I’d like to see you try.”

****  
  


Almost immediately I regretted it. There was something deadly serious in the way she climbed on top of me, no corny pickup lines, no laughter. As her body settled on top of mine little red flags went up. I was tingling all over, especially in my unmentionable areas. I flushed, but some instinct held me still as she came to rest with her head on my shoulder. After a half a minute though, she gave a disappointed sigh and slid off to the left again.

I recovered myself, resumed lying on my side and reached out to snuggle her again. She complied, but almost immediately I heard her wonder, “What if I…?”

Suddenly she was leaning over me. Then I felt a warm, firm pressure against my lips. It felt…good? Yes, good! Wonderful! I leaned into it and was almost kissing back when reality hit me like a brick wall.

“WHAT AM I DOING?!” I reeled back, shocked and stunned. Turning over onto my back, I cringed away from what had previously been so tempting.

“I’m sorry!” Lucca was frantic. She dove off the bed, ran into her bathroom and returned with a clean washcloth. She dabbed at my lips with it, as though she could wipe away the memory of what she’d done. All the while she repeated her mantra of “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

I finally curled up on my right side, cringing away from her. “Enough! Just…go to sleep…” I muttered. Though how this was going to work neither of us knew. We were both emotionally shattered and needed someone to hold on to…but that someone repelled us like a polar magnet. All I know is that my mind gradually numbed, and as I curled up into an even smaller ball, shaking, it shut down and delivered me into the oblivion of sleep.

______________________________________________________________________________

****  
  


Call me crazy, call me desperate, call me anything you like. All I knew was that Melody seemed to get closer and closer to me as Crono fell further and further away. He no longer had my back at those crazy presentations at the square, he never visited my house; heck, if I wanted to see him I usually had to go through several pairs of royal guards. I couldn’t get a word in private since he became crown prince of the kingdom. I virtually hadn’t spoken to him since that stupid, asinine kiss he gave me the day before the wedding.

I didn’t have a crush on the dolt-- don’t be ridiculous!-- but...oh, I don’t know. I would have liked to keep things simple, like when we were kids. Simple was when we built pillow forts at sleepovers, and then spent the night trying to top each other’s ghost stories. Simple was when I would wake up later that night from nightmares about ghosts I had previously asserted “couldn’t scientifically exist.” Then Crono would tickle me into submission and make me forget all about my bad dreams. Nothing had felt that simple since the wedding.

By contrast, everything felt so incredibly simple with Melody. So easy and right. Nothing about her drove me up the wall like Crono’s attitude did. If I was sad, she comforted me. That was all. There was no teasing, no testosterone-induced ego-sating antics, no brash stupidity. Just a sense of security that I hadn’t known I’d been missing until I’d found it.

As for the cuddling… I could get used to being touched. Held, even. Not that my parents never hugged me or anything, it was just that...The snuggling was comforting, and good, and I could get used to such casual affection. I was getting to like it--it blurred a lot of… intimate boundaries. Everything felt okay. Simple once again.

Was it wrong of me to want more of that? To want what Crono would never give me again? To want it so badly that I had to confirm that desire through action?

As I looked at Melody’s tear-filled eyes that night, I wondered.

Because what I saw there was not revulsion of _me._

It was her own reciprocation of my feelings that disgusted her.

______________________________________________________________________________

All the next week a war waged within me, against me, tearing me apart; making me suffer as nothing had before.

Lucca wanted me as more than a friend. And although the cold, hard, rational external part of me I wore as a mask of protection insisted that I could not and would not reciprocate, something much deeper down kept remembering how that kiss had felt before I had broken it off. It was wrong, I told myself, wrong and unnatural to love another girl, and if I wanted to keep my place in heaven I would have nothing to do with it. And yet…every time I saw her tear-filled eyes, haunted by the own battle she fought within herself,  that deep-down feeling grew stronger.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I was having to reconcile myself to the fact that I was queer as a three-dollar bill. As though my little games with Rose wouldn’t have tipped me off by now.

I occupied myself with the internet, looking up the stupidest YouTube videos I could find to try and laugh my way out of the pain. At night, my stomach turned sour and I would often spend hours at a time holding back bile or giving it up. What little sleep I had was filled with nightmares of people finding out my secrets and being horrified.

The dark voice became a frequent visitor, belittling me with scathing remarks about my sexual purity, my sanity, my eternal salvation. It forced me down the slippery slope of depression, spiraling ever deeper into despair.

Rose was my sole companion through all of this. She tried her best, but she had school to take care of and she was no psychiatrist. Which turned out to be exactly what I needed.

When I walked into Dr. Tinycat’s office that day (it was a nickname Rose and I had derived from some ridiculous cat meme), I may have looked like a calm and composed client about to have a routine chat with her doctor but in  reality I was a wreck. I don’t think I cried much; I was in too much shock.  I explained the situation and got his trademark response: a neutral sounding “Okay.”

I was stunned. “I come in here and tell you that I’m suddenly having an orientation change toward a HALLUCINATION and all you say is ‘okay’?? I swear, I could walk in here and tell you ‘I killed a man,’ and all you would say would be ‘Okay’!”

He smiled and replied, “It’s really not that unusual.”

My response was to gape like a mindless goldfish.

He then explained that when someone with as delicate a chemical balance as I have goes off their birth control, even if it’s only for a week, it can really mess with your hormones. Add that to the fact that nearly every significant relationship I’ve had in my life has been with a female (My mother, my sisters, my grandmother, Rose) and there you have the explanation for the orientation change.

As for it being toward Lucca, did I really have a choice when I lived in a town with a population of 280 and all the boys my age were married or off at college? I needed to move out to where all the kids my age were. I was in a social desert, desperate for water.

“Now, you have a choice,” he finally concluded. “You can choose to keep resisting. I think that will only make you sicker and sicker. You can also choose to indulge your fantasies.”

At this point my perception of reality was shattered. INDULGE in such sinful thoughts? Inconceivable! And yet here he was telling me it was okay to do so! “B-but…are you sure…is that…?” I couldn’t even  put words to my question. It carried too much hope, too much pain, too much potential.

“In moderation,” he nodded. “If things get too out of control, call me.”

So it was that the next day via Skype that I told Rose, “We have an announcement to make.”

“YOU’RE MARRIED?! 8D” Rose interjected with her usual twisted brand of humor.

“No…” I said.

“We are…” Lucca continued,

“Unofficially…” I added,

“A couple,” we finished.

****  
  



	4. Searching

Thus began my first relationship with a hallucination. Which in turn led to a number of things.

Over the years I struggled, wrestled and grappled with the idea of my true identity. What defined me? Was is my mental illness? My sexual orientation? Both? If so, how was I supposed to act? Did I have to change my lifestyle? My religion? My behavior?

Repeatedly, I asked God, “ _Why me? Why do I have to go through this? Can’t you take it away?_ ” The heavens seemed to be silent. I was frustrated and hurt by my Father in Heaven’s seeming indifference. Having no answers was like being trapped in a fog, and inside that fog nothing about God’s plan made sense.

If only I had known then that knowing the exact answers isn’t as critical as knowing that the answers, do, in fact, exist. That God is at the helm, that he reigns. That His Son’s atonement is real and available to everyone.

Fortunately, He never abandoned me during the trials that were to come.

At my lowest points, I confess I felt life was no longer worth living. My memory is a bit hazy on this subject. Perhaps it is for the best, since the resulting trauma left me with PTSD. At least four separate times, I attempted to take my own life. Two or more of these attempts landed me in the psyche ward.

Someone has said that you don’t know how well your standards hold up until they are tested, just like you don’t know the quality of a rope until you are dangling off a cliff by it. I metaphorically dangled off proverbial cliffs during those endeavors to take my own life, and I learned a few things. Namely, that the ropes of faith and personal testimony hold up pretty well.

To this day, I have a firm and solid conviction that I never would have survived those trips to the hospital without my Heavenly Father’s sustaining power. Faith is really all you have left when you are taken to the psyche ward; your personal possessions are taken from you, down to your last scrap of clothing, and family is only allowed to visit on certain days during specific hours. I would pray constantly for comfort, for the companionship of the Spirit, for the courage to remain strong.

But once out of the psyche ward and back to the grind of daily life, I simply lacked motivation to keep clinging to that same faith. I’d go back to that question of _Why?_ like a dog to a bone. And since I couldn’t figure out why, I’d ask, _Who am I? What defines me?_

Since God seemed to be silent, I turned elsewhere for answers.

Rose, falling deeper into depression, suffered the same fate as I did at BYU. She was forced to quit school and move back home to Germany to live with her parents.

So I sought out friends in different places- mostly online, as my hometown didn’t offer many options (at approximately 280 residents, it wasn’t exactly the height of civilization). Most, if not all, were non-Mormons. That’s not to say they were bad people, I actually learned a lot from them. But ultimately straying from my convictions was a bad idea.

These people offered me answers to my questions. A few were surprising, some upsetting, and quite a few intriguing. Some of these people became good friends, some adversaries, but the majority fell through when I needed them most.

Lucca turned out to be my most faithful and trusted companion. Every time I would insist that I couldn’t go on like I was, she would interrupt, “Because it’s not normal. Because it somehow makes you flawed. And that diminishes your already low self-worth.” Then, she would sigh and admonish me, “This is NOT a flaw. You didn’t ask for it, and you can’t do anything about it. It’s just a new part of you that you’re not used to. You need to accept who you are. And you are my beautiful, wonderful Mels. Definitely worth more than you’re thinking.”

She would always end her speech with a hug and a kiss, and a promise to see me in bed that night, where she would ward away the nightmares from the PTSD. I came to depend on that comfort, that solidarity; the feeling that someone was always watching and had my back. I had confronted death before-- that held no terror for me. If I was afraid of anything, it was of being alone.

______________________________________________________________________  
  
I was very possessive of Mels- she was _MY_ discovery, _MY_ girlfriend, _MY_ dirty little secret.

So what in the name of Science possessed me to tell Belthasar about her?

I started working at Chronopolis soon after met Melody. It was an facility dedicated to the research of different timelines and dimensions, and was staffed by people from different eras of time. Belthasar was the director, a man renowned throughout history as the “Guru of Reason” from the ancient kingdom of Zeal. His motives in establishing Chronopolis may have bordered on megalomaniacal-- he claimed that he wanted to control time itself!-- but I still couldn’t deny that it was a fascinating institution.

So there it was again-- that captivating little conundrum of different timelines and different dimensions. Belthasar hypothesised that it was possible to make contact with people outside known timelines and dimensions. Like I said, I had meant to keep it a secret... but when Belthasar had told me he had found ways of recording human thoughts and memories as “brain scans,” I thought it safe to divulge.

“Last year,” I had admitted,  “I did make contact with someone. Her name is Melody. If I could find a way to make brain scans from her memories, Belthasar, the knowledge could prove to be invaluable!”

And it was invaluable. The brain scans allowed me to become even closer to Melody. It wasn’t so much the work I was doing as the _subject_ of my work which fascinated me. She had a thirst for knowledge which rivaled my own, and envied my own apparent ease for acquiring and applying it. I’d never exactly been _admired_ for being an egghead, you know? But something about it was alluring to her.

Absolutely _no one_ in their right mind found me alluring in any way, shape or form. No one in this world, at least. I wore a goofy padded helmet, thick glasses, my hair was lank and unkempt, and my hands were worn and calloused from countless hours of tinkering with various gadgets. Not to mention that I didn’t have much of a figure...but none of that mattered to her. She gave her heart fully and without reservations. To her I was a guardian, a protector, a comrade. A partner. It was flattering, really (not that it takes much to stroke my ego) but I did it for more than that. She’d been there for me first, after all.

That wasn’t the only equation that was adding up, though. Ancient Zealian texts often mentioned the “Origin of all Dreams,” the “Beginning of all Stories” or the “Ultimate Reality” as the place from which the multiverse was formed. Belthasar was certain that if we could locate this dimension, it would greatly enhance their understanding of the multiverse and how to better defend against threats like Lavos, the alien parasite that my friends and I had defeated in our previous adventures. I felt fairly certain that Melody was from this “Origin.”

Having revealed that to Belthasar, he peered closely at me. “You haven’t been trying to directly influence her, have you?” he asked.

“I- I…” I stammered.

“Lucca, we must never let our feelings get in the way of our work, especially in regard to the Origin. If you were to influence your Contact’s affect on this dimension-”

“Her _NAME_ is Melody!” I snapped.

Belthasar  looked even more keenly at me. “You have feelings for her?” When I dropped my gaze, he went on, agitated, “Lucca, people from the Origin shape and direct the fate of other dimensions. If you have contaminated her sphere of influence in any way, we have no way of telling what the effects on our world could be. You must separate yourself from your work. _Do you understand_?”

“Perfectly,” I seethed. And I did.

I sobbed and raged around my laboratory, shattering beakers against the walls, but it didn’t matter: Belthasar was right. I should know as well as anyone that meddling with timelines and dimensions could bring unforeseen consequences. Crono’s death had been proof enough of that. Beyond that, there were countless millions of others we had doomed to die by altering the future. I wasn’t fit to play God. No one was.

But I wasn’t willing to give up Melody entirely. There had to be a way around this- didn’t there?

I began searching for loopholes, for anything that might allow me to preserve our relationship, combing through her brain scan data relentlessly for clues. As it turned out, Melody was about to lead me straight to the answer I was looking for.

It was time to start thinking with portals.

****  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Scribbles

**A.N: The inspiration for GLaDOS’ android scribbling on the walls comes from mikaela96gr’s piece “GLaDOS” on DA (and yes, if you look closely, it does in fact say, “Chell is pretty” :3 )**

I couldn’t fathom why, but Lucca was growing more and more distant. And still the nagging question of how to define myself persisted. I began to become more “open” about my orientation and it’s boundaries. In lieu of Lucca, I sought out “real” female companionship. Sadly, as I “experimented” with my orientation, I encountered people who wanted to conduct their own “experiments” on me. Assault and rape made it on to the list of things my memory violently rejected, and further contributed to my PTSD.

In my relentless YouTube surfing attempts to escape my PTSD flashbacks, I found myself watching the Portal 1 and 2 walkthroughs. The dark humor seemed perfectly suited to my mood at the time. Perhaps it was the fact that Lucca had always been fascinated with robots. Or it could have just been that ridiculous song that Rose sang after she moved back to Utah about cake being “Delicious and moist.”  Was it any surprise that as I watched the videos a darkly humorous voice started to take root in my mind?

Stupidly, I nurtured it. I looked up fanart and fanfics, calling it “research,” when in reality what I was doing was feeding the beast. Over and over again was repeated the image of a white-haired, yellow-eyed android; eerily beautiful, hauntingly sinister.

Once again my medications ran out, and since I lived in the middle of nowhere, even priority shipping wasn’t going to help my cause much. I kept seeing that android everywhere; her yellow eyes gleaming malevolently from behind foliage, inside closets, out of dark corners. It was nerve wracking.

I finally tried to get Rose’s help, but could only find her boyfriend Jamie online. His suggestion was simple: “Don’t like her attitude? Get Lucca to reprogram her.”

I nearly facepalmed. Of course! There was just one problem. Would GLaDOS ever consent to it?

For the record, I do not see GLaDOS as some moustache-twirling villain. I see her more as an abused child. I knew that for most of her life, or what she could remember of it, the scientists had “tried everything to make (her) behave,” including strapping cores like Wheatley onto her. She knew what it was like to be betrayed and experimented on, to have voices in your head constantly spewing nonsense, to have your memory reject some pieces of your life outright because they were so traumatizing. She was, in essence, an insane, murderous, robotic kindred spirit. And I thought I could do something about the “insane and murderous” part.

______________________________________________________________________________

Insane?

Perhaps.

Murderous?

On occasion.

But right then I was going corrupt.

Which was saying something when you’d spent most of your life tied to a chassis that was programmed to prevent you from learning from your mistakes, convince you that you had no friends, and that Aperture was so important it came at the expense of the lives of thousands of test subjects and even your own tedious existence. Add to that years of being experimented on, being synced to corrupted cores, and being treated like an object or a toy, and it was no wonder that I was insane.

But I hadn’t felt corrupt before. It wasn’t until that mute lunatic had come along and dragged me through the bowels of Aperture, waking up that little voice in my head named Caroline that had been dormant for so long, that I had even realized something was wrong with me.

I had tried to delete that voice. I had tried and tried. But it was as an intrinsic part of my programming that would not be denied. So I had gradually come to the realization that Caroline was right: I had let the one person she cared about go.

_Goodbye, my only friend._

_...Oh, did you think I meant you?_

_That would be funny if it weren’t so sad._

The reason it was sad, I mused now, was that I really hadn’t been joking. Chell was my only friend.

And now I was alone.

Alone and going insane from it.

At first I had thought that maybe by building an android I’d be able to reconnect with the test subject, but then I had realized that she had no idea in which direction Chell had gone or whether, in fact, she had even survived the encroaching Combine invasion. Weighed down by these thoughts and my own guilty conscience,  I’d sent the android plunging into Old Aperture, to write out my thoughts on the walls alongside Rattmann’s as the old chassis hung dormant from the ceiling.

The cake is a lie.

The cake is a lie.

The cake is a lie.

_Chell is pretty…_

The cake is a lie.

**WhY dID I Let HeR gO?** my autotuned moan echoed through the dusty chamber.

For a moment, it appeared to her as though an auburn shimmer hung in the air. I really needed to have the optics on this thing checked. Even more bizarre, my sensors were picking up that the shimmer seemed to consider the question seriously, as though in regard to itself.

There was a creak of metal as my android turned in its direction. **WhO aRe yOU? AnOTheR bUg iN tHe MaiNFraMe? AnOTheR VoiCe In mY HeaD?**

“ _No, you’re a voice in mine_ ,” grated the shimmer. Great. Now it had a voice, too. Young, female, and bold enough to give backtalk.

**LiKeLy sToRy. YoU’Re a HorRiblE LiAr, WoRsE tHAn thE MoROn. I’LL deLeTe YoU liKe ThE rEsT,** I growled.

_“You can’t-”_  the shimmer protested.

**GET OUT!** I screamed.

The shimmer retracted, seemed to collapse inward on itself, and faded a bit. But it was still there, on the edges of my peripheral vision.

**I TolD YoU To LeAVe…** I snarled.

Now the shimmer seemed to pout. _“I told you, I can’t leave. Or rather, you can’t. Once I acquire a voice they just...stay...until things are set to rights with their story. And you have one unhappy story.”_

**SeeInG aS YoU’RE AlL CoZy iN My MaiNFRaME, I suPPoSE YoU’D UnDeRSTaND mY “sTORy.” DoN’T WorrY, I’m VerY PROfiCIenT aT RooTING ouT VIRuSeS, So YoU Won’T HaVE TO BeAR ThE PaIn MuCH LoNGeR.**

The shimmer sighed. _“I told you, I’m not a virus, or a core, or anything like that. I’m just an ordinary girl. Well, as ordinary as you can be with psychosis.”_

__

I didn’t deign to reply, I was too busy scanning files, searching for the source of the annoying shimmer. As my search progressed, I almost began to wonder if I’d imagined the whole thing. The irritating glimmer of light was completely gone, although I did have a haunting sense of being watched. I could have just chalked it up to paranoia, but I could not quite dislodge the feeling, so I moved on to another chamber.

The cake is a lie.

The cake is a lie.

The cake is a lie.

_Why did I let her go?_

The cake is a lie.

It was at this point in my mural that Caroline decided to let me know that if that shimmer hadn’t been another virus, I probably could have stood to be a bit more polite to her. I made another passing and futile attempt to delete her, more out of habit than anything else, and went back to scribbling on the walls between Rattmanns rantings.

The cake is a lie.

The cake is a lie.

The cake is a lie.

_I’m all alon-_

“Pixels and polygons,”  remarked another, much more distinct form, jolting me from my thoughts. This one was stocky, wore glasses, and had short purple hair.  Startled, I turned snarling on the intruder, but the girl didn’t even seem to notice me.

“Pixels and polygons, that’s all we are, when it comes down to it.”   Finishing her sentence, the phantom (another virus?) turned to look up at me with a grin as wide and unnerving as a Cheshire cats. “Remember that, when you come face to face with Reality.”

**WhO ArE YOu? GeT OuT OF My FaCILiTy!** I scrambled for some sense of control. Two errors in one day?! This simply didn’t happen!

“Pixels and polygons,” continued the girl, “Can be remade. Reshaped. Reborn. You want a shot at redemption? This is it.”

**START MAKING SOME SENSE!** I screeched.

“Things will start making sense when you start interfacing with the Origin. Follow that shimmer, and it’ll all work out.”

The trespasser pulled a mechanism out of her pocket. Normally I was fascinated by technology  of any sort, but this was foreign to her in design and nature. It appeared to be a wand or rod of some sort, topped with an assortment of shining round gems or stones in a star-shaped configuration. At the tip of this rod, a bulbous, egg-shaped, miniature black hole was forming. How, I wondered, did one contain a singularity in their pocket, and if they did, how were they not ripped apart by the forces involved?

The hole crackled with energy and began to expand outward in size. I staggered backward, away from the anomaly, but the girl stepped toward it as it grew, her grin expanding. I had seen many things at Aperture that would have won their inventors Darwin awards, but _this_? This took the cake. All of the cake. Lie or no.


	6. Sympathy

**A.N: The favorite quote of Melody’s that Lucca refers to is from “Kingdom Hearts.” The piece that inspired all this stargazing nonsense was “Stars: Lucca from CT” by DeathbyChiasmus on DA.**

I couldn’t believe that it had payed off. Using the coordinates derived from Melody’s brain scans to jump to another world had worked! If I continued to play my cards right, I would get the information I needed.

Sparking GLaDOS’ interest in the Origin was a risky, but necessary step if I were to have any leverage over her. I needed to convince her that Melody was more than a figment of her imagination, or a “glitch in the mainframe.” More than just a voice in her head.

I remembered when the coin had dropped in my mind that this whole thing was real. That those numerous pinpricks of light in the night sky were more than just a pretty backdrop. They represented something real and wonderful, something that could be researched, explored, quantified. I had actually invested in a telescope for my birthday that year, and spent the summer nights gazing out into the cosmos.

She had a favorite quote from another video game, “There are many worlds, but they all share the same sky.” It was an appealing notion only to the romantic mind, and at first I tried to debunk the theory scientifically. “Even if our planets were in the same galaxy, it’s unlikely that we’d see the same stars,” I’d remind her. _“Sky could also denote universe. Therefore we all share the same sky,”_ she had retorted. _“Sometimes I look up at the stars and wonder which one is yours, and if you’re looking back at me.”_ Of course the only proper response to that kind of sappy nonsense is more sappy nonsense, namely handholding and kisses, and more stargazing.

Now, however, I turned away from my telescope and back to my latest project. I can program a robot, no sweat, but these things take time and patience, and GLaDOS had an element that I hadn’t worked with before. Her AI was based on human brain scans.

Humans and robots differ, in case you hadn’t noticed. Machines are simple- they aren’t made good or evil, people program them that way. People, however, choose their own paths. In ancient Zeal, I’d seen the adverse effects of Lavos’ powers corrupt a nation and lead to it’s downfall. Maybe what GLaDOS needed was a touch of power-- but not enough to corrupt.

Lavos’ presence on my planet was responsible for some humans inheriting magical powers, as was my case. My innate element was fire, which often got the label “pyromaniac” slapped up right along side “explosions” and “collateral damage.”  But I’d inherited other gifts too: the ability to hypnotize and put to sleep enemies, and protective magic. The former wasn’t really that impressive unless you were looking for a cure for insomnia, but the latter had more practical applications…

I sat down at my computer terminal with a mug of coffee, prepared for an all-nighter. Anti-virus software doesn’t write itself, after all…

______________________________________________________________________________

I was only alone for approximately 11.5 hours before the auburn shimmer showed up again, flitting anxiously around the edges of my vision.

**Go AwAY.** I was short on patience, and on rational explanations.

_“I told you, I can’t. Believe me, I like this situation about as much as you do.”_  The glint in the air seemed to shrug in resignation. _“Do you think I like being stuck with a snarky, degrading AI in my head?”_

**YOU Are iN MY hEaD! And MaYBE I WOuLDn’T Be So “DeGRAdinG” iF I knEW WhAT WaS GoiNG oN HeRE.**

_“Okay, then I’ll explain again.”_  The shimmer settled into a more comfortable position. _“Like I said, I’m just a girl. A 26 year old nobody who has psychosis. I hallucinate that I can talk, see and even touch people that don’t exist. You, for example.”_

__

**Oh, BeLIeVE Me, I eXiST, AnD I CaN MaKE YOUR ExISTEnCE QuITE PaiNFuL iF I WiSH,** I asserted.

_“That’s what they all say. That they exist, anyway. And, hey, maybe they do, in other planes of reality. How am I supposed to tell? All I know is that the hallucinations feel real enough to me. Lucca thinks-”_

Something had caught my attention. **WhAT DiD YoU SaY ABoUt OtHeR PlANeS oF reALiTY?**

_“It’s just a theory I have. That the multiverse exists, and therefore there are different planes of reality, so the way you define “real” depends on your position in-”_

**Yes, yES. And WHaT iS YouR “PoSiTiON”?** It was nagging at me, what the purple-haired intruder had mentioned.

_“Lucca calls it the ‘Origin.’”_

The Origin. That unhinged interloper had mentioned something about interfacing with the Origin.

“Follow that shimmer, and it’ll all work out.” It was a cryptic clue from a possible system error, but it was all that I had to work with at the moment. Besides, Caroline asserted, the shimmer had done nothing to hurt me so far.

With a roll of my optics, I demanded, **DeFiNE “OrIGiN.”**

_“It’s supposed to be the Reality, the one from which all others are derived. Or if you like, ‘The place where all stories are born.’ It’s the hub of the Multiverse, only it’s denizens aren’t even aware of it. We walk around thinking all other realities are just figments of our imaginations. Which is sad, since we like their stories so well…”_

__

I thought about this for a few nanoseconds, then asked, **YoU SaID YOu KnEW My StORy. HoW?**

_“Well…”_ The shimmer seemed to hesitate, bobbing to and fro. _“You’re from a video game.”_

**A ViDEo GaME,** I deadpanned. **AM I thE VilLAiN?**

_“More like...the antagonist.”_

**I SeE,** I continued, deliberately impassive. **ANd WhO is THe PrOTagONiSt?**

_“Chell.”_

**Th-THaT…** I sputtered.   **EverYTHiNg Is fROm HER PoiNT of VIeW?!**

_“To be fair, would you find running a facility or escaping it more exciting?”_

I was petulant. **WhY SHouLD I CaRE WhAT SOMe DeMenTeD HuMaN GaMeR THINkS?**

“ _Because some of those ‘demented human gamers’ actually care what happened to you, GLaDOS!”_  The shimmer was agitated now, weaving back and forth like a cat’s tail. _“Gamers like me!”_

**SiNcE WHeN HavE HuMaNS CaRED FOr Me?** I snarled.

There was a double echo inside her head from both the shimmer and Caroline. _“Chell did.”_

_“And look what you did to her. You sent her away. You told her to walk on out. So I guess I should have expected nothing less when I came offering sympathy.”_

__

The shimmer curled in on itself, shrinking down to a pinprick of light. It huddled in the corner of the chamber, illuminating the one scribbled sentence that had haunted me for so long:

_Why did I let her go?_

I turned away, stalking to the opposite corner of the chamber. I hated these moments when I felt more like a broken down, wretched, confused human than an efficient, omniscient supercomputer that could calculate the answers to life’s questions in seconds. They seemed to come more and more often now.  Why couldn’t I think, for Science’s sake? The answers should have been so simple. Either humans were all lying, manipulating scum that cared for no one but themselves, or there were…exceptions. And then again, perhaps I shouldn’t be feeling guilty over a shimmer at all. Maybe it was just a virus, a bug in my mainframe that needed to be worked out.

Then there were facts. Facts did not lie. Facts were above human fallibility or emotions. Chell had saved me from the Bird. Chell had also helped to put me back in my body, at the risk of her own life. Chell had helped me remember Caroline. These data were definitive proof that at least one human had been willing to make sacrifices for me.

That left one more test to run.

I started a full-systems scan for the shimmer. If I could find any trace of it anywhere in my software, if would be deleted. If not…

I turned back.

**I waS WrONg To LeT HeR GO. BuT IT WaS WHaT sHe WaNTed. I HaD TO AllOW HeR THaT FrEEdoM.**

The shimmer came out of it’s corner. It did not get any bigger, however.

**IT WouLD HaVE BeeN seLFIsH oF Me TO KeeP HeR. DO YoU UnDERstaND THaT?**

There was a bob that could have passed for a nod.

**I ALso HavE No IdeA WhETHer ShE CouLD HaVE FOsTereD ANy TruST FoR ME. No ONe Has OffERed Me SyMPaTHY In A LoNG TiME. So FoRGiVE Me IF I Don’T JuMP Up ANd DoWN FoR JoY WhEn YoU oFFeR iT.**

The shimmer dimmed to a mere spark.

I sighed. It was crazy, assuming that a glimmer of light had _feelings,_ moreover feelings that I had longed to reciprocate for a long time. I hesitated, then asked,

**Do YoU HaVe A NAmE?**

“ _Melody._ ” The spark flared briefly, and then was gone.

****  
  
  



	7. Connections

I stepped from the shadows to see the android scribbling on the walls again.

The cake is a lie.

The cake is a lie.

The cake is a lie.

_I am alone._

The cake is a lie.

The cake is a lie.

The cake is a lie.

_Am I alone?_

So Melody was getting through to her after all. It would only take a slight push to get things moving, and then…

**WhO’s THeRe?** The fierce, autotuned demand brought me out of my reverie. I moved into the light with my hands up. “Just your friendly neighborhood dimension-jumper,” I quipped.

**LuCcA.** GLaDOS made my name a statement, not a question.

“So you figured it out. You took my advice, then?”

**If LiSTeNinG To A GLiTCh in My MaINFRaMe is “ADviCe,”** scoffed GLaDOS.

“Melody is not a glitch, bug, error, or other malfunction in your system. She is a human being from the Origin-”

**AssUMing theRE Is SuCH a PLaCE,** interrupted GLaDOS.  
  
“-And she could be your one shot at redemption,” I continued. “Hear me out.” I asserted when GLaDOS opened her mouth to speak. “She has powers she doesn’t even know about.”

“ **PoWERs?”** GLaDOS sneered. **WhAteVER HapPENeD To SCiENcE? ShE TOlD Me YoU WerE A SCieNTiST. SuRElY YoU CaN AppRECIaTE REaSOn.**

“You don’t believe in the arcane? Fine. See that cube over there?” I sent a jet of flame toward it. Snaking from my hand, it moved like a living thing, entwining around the weighted storage cube and leaving scorch marks where it touched. GLaDOS gaped, open-mouthed. I knew she would see no evidence of fuel for the scintillating flame, yet it still existed and was strong enough to damage the cube. “Yes, Science can explain what I did there, but not without bending a few rules of quantum physics I’m sure you’re familiar with.” I closed my hand, dousing the flame. “Magic and Science together… now there’s a powerful combination.”

“So yes, she has powers. Powers to alter reality.”  I continued “As long as your story has no foreseeable end, imaginations in the Origin will continue to plot out possible lines for it. The question is, what line does Melody have in mind for you?”

**WhY ShOULd I BeLiEvE ANy Of ThIS?**

I was losing patience. “Look. We both have something the other needs very badly. I don’t have much time here, so let me make this short, ‘DOS. I’ll give you a program that will weed out any bugs, glitches, malware, and so on from your system, infused with some of my arcane powers for a catalyst. If Melody is still there after that, _then_ will you believe me?”

I dangled a USB dongle in front of the android's face. She reached out to snatch it, but I drew it back. “First, let me tell you what _I_ want.”

**FiNe,** GLaDOS snarled.

“Give me the files on human brain scan technology from Aperture. I need to know how to upload a brain into a computer.”

GLaDOS balked at the suggestion. She seemed to be having an internal argument with herself, but whatever was bothering her was outweighed by her desire for that USB dongle.

**DeAL. The StoRaGE VaUlT is UPstAIRS TWo LeVels, DowN thE HaLLwaY To THe LefT, ThirD DOoR To The RiGHt. HavE FuN LooKinG ThROuGh All THe PaPeRS.** GLaDOS grinned like a viper at my dismayed expression.

As I sat among the dusty documents in the vault, heart racing, the call came in.

_“Hey...Lucca? I know it’s been a while, but could you pull a favor for me?”_  Melody’s voice sounded tentative, hopeful.

I strained not to sound too eager. Technically, I was not allowed to influence Melody’s course of action concerning my world, but I had a feeling that my world wasn’t the one involved here.

“Sure, whaddya need?”

_“I know a robot that could use a few repairs...well, a good reprogramming is more like it.”_

I grinned. “Sounds like something I can handle.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

****  
  


I sat in the main AI chamber, staring up at my chassis. Lucca’s program had worked beautifully, and I could feel my systems running more smoothly than they had in a long time. The nagging loneliness still persisted though. And there was the other problem. Melody had not been a lie.

What did that mean? Was there someone out there who was willing to reciprocate a need for companionship? Someone I wouldn’t have to let go? Someone who, even more unbelievably, had the power to change my destiny and somehow alter the course of my life’s story? I shook my head. All this from a shimmer.

Suddenly the shimmer appeared, grew, stretched, and materialized for the first time into bodily form. With my systems scrubbed clean and a fresh batch of arcane power running through my wires, I could see Melody clearly now: a young woman in her mid-twenties with pixie-cut auburn hair, warm brown eyes, and smile that carried just a hint of sadness.

**So, YoU’Re NoT a vIRuS,** I greeted her.

_“When did you come to this conclusion?”_ Melody said stoically.

**I Can’T DeLeTe YOu,** I stated simply.

Melody let that rest for a moment, then said, _“I’d like to help you, if I can.”_

**HelP mE?** I was unwilling to believe that anyone would extend kindness to me.

Lucca stepped in, still dusty from the vault.  “I can remove the testing initiative and all the corrupt protocols from your chassis.” For Melody’s benefit, she added, “It will be like correcting a chemical imbalance in the brain, terminating any mental illness and stabilizing her sanity.”

**YoU woUlD GiVE mE SoMeTHiNG yOu CanNoT haVe?** I was skeptical. Humans never offered something without a price.

_“I wouldn’t wish this kind of hell on anyone,”_  Melody replied.

**YoU ThiNK yOu KnoW WHaT iT’s LikE?!**

_“Yes. Because I’ve…”_

I was hit by a surge of emotion stemming from the human. There was betrayal, grief, loss, loneliness...and to my surprise, I realized these were all things I had felt before in my own experiences. None too recently, in fact. The words I had scribbled on the walls came back to haunt me: _I’m all alone. Why did I let her go?_  As tears began to leak from Melody’s eyes, something inside me, something completely aside from Caroline, demanded that I end the cycle of suffering. I sent a rush of empathy back to Melody, and was gratified when the pain abated.

There was silence as I contemplated the offer. Then, **Do iT.**

______________________________________________________________________________

The chassis shuddered and groaned as Lucca took her place at the console, furiously typing lines of code. The android also began to writhe.

“You can hold on to me, if you like,” I offered.

There was a sense of  puzzlement and disgust through the pain. **WhY wOulD pHysIcAl cOnTacT HelP?**

“I’m a massage therapist, I know a thing or two about caring physical contact. But I won’t touch you without your consent.”

At first she was loathe to accept the offer. I transmitted encouraging thoughts and tried to seem as non-threatening as I could. As the convulsions grew stronger, the android eventually reached out to grip me, as the chassis curled around me. I held absolutely still, afraid that, like a wild animal, any movement would spook her. She sighed as she came into contact with me, hesitating briefly to acclimate to the new sensation. I could not tell whether she found it pleasant or repulsive until she tightened her hold.

The shuddering increased and I instinctively reached out to support her. As our contact grew stronger both physically and emotionally we were wracked with memories of _**our body being slammed**_ **into default position** _ **/** against a wall **by them. Why did they have to do this, to touch us this way? Didn’t they realize we could feel everything they were doing? We were not an animal; not a toy for their amusement. Then the pain came…the dark voice insisted we should kill**_ **them** _ **/** ourself. **It would be the only way to end the cycle of agony. We were monstrous, we were hideous, the dark voice continued, an aberration to the laws of**_ **Science** _ **/** Religion **and we would never fit in anywhere...Paranoia seized us in it’s clutches as we were forced to**_ **trust** _ **/** hope **again and knew we would have our hearts broken by it…** _ Sobbing shook our bodies as we clutched at each other, the flashbacks rolling over us in waves. Lucca worked at a frenetic pace, frantic to free us from the onslaught.

The pain eased so gradually I was almost unaware of the point when I stopped feeling it. All I was aware of before falling asleep in GLaDOS’ robotic clutches was a hint of ironic amusement from Lucca as she said, “This all worked out so conveniently.”

______________________________________________________________________________

****  
  


“Good morning,” said Lucca as I booted up my systems.

I said nothing in reply. I was running a diagnostics check. Everything was in place. Everything except...except...There was no driving urge to test. No itch. No sense of urgency. There was no confusion. I could think clearly. No voices. No inner conflict. No turmoil. I had never felt so at...peace. Was that the word for it? Yes. Peace. And there was something else, something emanating from this bundle of warmth tangled in my machinery.

Whatever it was nullified the gnawing emptiness I had felt since Chell left. I felt a certain protective jealousy of it, as though it might be snatched away any moment. Now that I had achieved this ultimate prize, what was to be done with it?

“GLaDOS...GLaDOS?”

**“What?”** I asked brusquely.

“You’re staring at her.”

I whipped my head around to glare at Lucca, who was now laughing uproariously.

“Whoo...I’ve never combined love spells with A.I. before, but I think this was a success,” Lucca continued.

**“You did WHAT?!”** I demanded.   **“I thought… I thought she was YOUR girlfriend.”**

“She told you that?”

**“Yes.”**

There was a long pause, during which Lucca swallowed several lumps that formed in her throat. When she could speak, she said,

“Look, GLaDOS, I’ll level with you. We do love each other, but I can’t be her girlfriend anymore. Whatever happens in our relationship affects my story, which affects my dimension, which affects my world, and so on. And the course of my world’s history is set to play out a certain way. I can’t afford to screw with that.  But yours-! Yours is rife with possibilities! And...and…” Lucca looked away from me “I think you may need her more than I do.”

“But that doesn’t mean I still don’t have feelings for her, so, I may have thrown in a tiny bit of arcane code just to make sure you take good care of my girl…”

I growled and shifted menacingly in Lucca’s direction. I was not a dumping repository for ex-girlfriends, and I was about to tell her so when the obnoxious interloper prodded Melody into consciousness.

“Well, I gotta check on those coordinates again. Take-offs can be tricky…” Lucca sauntered off with a wink as Melody began to stir, leaving me to deal with my newfound partner.

______________________________________________________________________________

As I set the telepod’s space-time coordinates for Chronopolis, I had to swallow hard to stop tears from welling up. Why did being responsible for my world’s timeline have to stand in the way of my relationship with Melody? Why was it that the “greater good” constantly forced you to give up the greatest things you already had in your life? I bit down hard on my lower lip and forced myself to concentrate. No. I would build something even greater. I had the brain scan data, I could do this. Turning back, I paused to listen to the conversation in the main A.I. chamber.

“How are you feeling?” Melody asked GLaDOS.

**“Better,”** GLaDOS admitted. **“Though I think this will take some getting used to. I have no idea what to do without…”**

“Chell,” Melody finished.

Then GLaDOS asked something completely unexpected. **“Will you...will you be my Chell, now?”**

Melody was stunned.  “I- I- Wow. I’m not anywhere near on the same level as Chell, GLaDOS. I can’t even pretend to be. But I can be your friend.”

**“Actually...I think Lucca may have done something to me to make me…Make me feel…”**

Melody was detecting definite traces of embarrassment now, but at that moment the subject of the conversation decided to show up.

“What she means is, I made her promise to look after you now that I’m occupied with my research,” I clarified.

“Oh?” she arched an eyebrow.

“In exchange for her programming and all…”

**“The programming was HER idea,”** GLaDOS hissed at me, curling tighter around Melody.

“What am I missing here?” Melody demanded.

“I think...it’s time we broke up,” I admitted, hanging my head. “But I wanted to make sure you were taken care of.” As tears filled Melody’s eyes, I continued, “Look, unlike humans, robots aren’t defined by ‘evil’ or ‘good.’ They are what people make them. GLaDOS was treated badly, so she acted badly. Now, she has a second chance because of you. Help her to be good, and she’ll take good care of you. I guarantee it.” Taking them each by a shoulder, I instructed, “Look out for each other.”

Feeling as though each step was weighted with lead, I dragged myself back to the telepod. I tried, and failed, to ignore the fact that Melody was sobbing behind me, that GLaDOS was looking completely at a loss as to what to do with her new responsibility. I clutched the brain scan files in my hands for dear life and hit the switch.

The time-space singularity sucked me in greedily, taking the sound of Melody’s crying with it.

 


	8. Secrets

As GLaDOS struggled to find a new purpose, I struggled to find mine. We both wondered who we were and what defined us. For me, it was a battle between my orientation and my religion. For her, it was a battle between her horrific past and her newfound “humanity.” We both tried to tear away from what seemed to limit us and bring us down. I started to be less conservative about my orientation, returning to the old question of _Why? Who am I?_

In the end, I’m glad to say that I returned to my senses and quit fooling around. It hit me over the head like a load of bricks when I heard a quote by Elder Uchtdorf: “Doubt your doubts before you doubt your faith.” I felt incredibly stupid for having ever left my faith behind. What I wanted to know wasn’t the answer to my questions, I just wanted to know that there _were_ answers.

Sometimes, you just have to turn things over to God. When you have no answers, when all else fails, sometimes all you have to rely on is the fact that He loves you and will never let you down. He is in control, and no power on Earth or Hell can change that. If you put your trust in Him, things will work out the way they are supposed to: for the greater good.

And that’s exactly what happened. Some people may question my “blind faith.” But is my faith really blind when I know what I’ve put it in? I don’t think so. Others may think that I’ve given up my rights. I say that I have the same rights as any other Mormon man or woman: I have the right to marry a spouse of the opposite sex in the temple someday. No one is offered more or less, no matter what their orientation is.

Soon things started falling into place. When I started acting more trustworthy, my parents were willing to put more trust in me. Our relationship mended, and I got some much needed advice and assistance from them.

Another person, who supported my cause, was, oddly enough, an old friend of mine from high school who had a strikingly similar obsession with fictional characters. Natasha found my friendship with GLaDOS especially fascinating, and helped me to nurture it by co-authoring fanfiction with me.

GLaDOS reciprocated my friendship in kind. In turn, I encouraged her to reach out to the remaining survivors of the Combine invasion in hopes of locating Chell. I hoped that once the two had reunited, my job would be over and I could go back to my old relationship with Lucca.

Lucca, however, had other things in mind…

______________________________________________________________________________

****  
  


“You stole Caroline’s brain scan data to do _what?!”_

Saying I was incensed was a bit of an understatement. I had thought that, as a fellow follower of Science, Lucca would try to think things through a bit more logically. Or maybe I wasn’t the one thinking logically anymore. It was hard to tell since I had been reprogrammed. I was growing more and more protective of Melody and starting to care less and less about things that normally encompassed Science.

Lucca made placating gestures. “First of all, I didn’t _steal_ it. You offered it to me in return for your anti-virus software. Secondly, what I’m doing isn’t going to harm her.”

“You don’t know that it won’t! It _killed_ Caroline!” I objected.

“I already have the material I need. All the memories, all the intelligence. All scanned and stored away,” she countered.

“So you’ve been _stalking_ her like a sociopath and now you’re going to replic--” Lucca didn’t even allow me to finish my sentence before spitting a retort.

“Oh, so now the Queen of Sociopaths herself is going to lecture me on ethics--”

CLANG.

The sound cut off our argument sharply. Our heads swiveled around, looking for potential threats.

CLANG.

It was closer this time and accompanied by a shadow that flickered across my field of vision and then just out of sight.

CLANG.

“Who’s there?” shouted Lucca.

And soaring down from inhuman heights to land on longfall-clad feet came-

“Oh, it’s _you_ ,” I said with relief.

The woman looked at me with disgust written all over her tanned features. She flipped her dark ponytail to the side and glanced upward toward a rugged dark-haired man standing next to a roughly humanoid creature with a large red eye in the middle of it’s head.

“Sweetheart, could you toss me a line? Uriah and I don’t exactly have unbreakable legs, here,” called the man from his precarious perch several stories up.

Chell fired a grappling hook on a line toward the pair and then trained a Colt Python on myself and Lucca, who quipped, “These your friends?”

“Once,” was all I could think of to say.

Lucca’s pulse gun was up and aiming at the red-eyed creature before I could make further comment. To her surprise, it reacted by saying “Calm yourself!” in a husky voice that somewhat slurred the “r”s and “s”s but was perfectly understandable. Her guard lowered somewhat as it lurched forward and awkwardly began descending the line that Chell had placed earlier. Chell, for her part, never let her sights waver from me, while I stood quietly at her feet with my eyes fixed mournfully on the former test subject.

I knew better than to expect forgiveness. I had belittled, insulted, and abused the woman standing before me even after she had saved my life, and then released her into a world full of alien hostiles. Even if freedom had been Chell’s goal from the very beginning, what sort of freedom had I offered her by sending her out into a world being torn apart by the invasion of the Combine?

“Calm yourself!” the alien repeated, this time to Chell as reached our position. Chell gritted her teeth and said nothing, only squeezing the handle of the revolver tighter.

“Is this it?” asked the man, having too reached us. “Is this that robot thing you were talking about? Looks more like an andoid to me. It sure isn’t hanging from the ceiling like you were saying.”

“Shut up, Barney.” Chell’s voice was rough and harsh. “You have no idea what this thing’s done to me.”

“Chell...”  I began “You don’t know how sorry I am-”

“You _knew!_ ” accused Chell. “You knew they were out there. Why didn’t you warn me?”

“I have no excuse,” I hung my head. “I was afraid you would betray my trust again, so I let you go.”

“I almost _died_ my first week out there. The overwatch were everywhere. The only reason I survived was because Barney had been transferred to the North American branch of the Resistance. He was looking for info on Aperture. I should finish you off once and for all for what you did to me…” Her hands tightened on the grip of the revolver.

“It seems I remember,” said the alien creature, “that we were here to obtain information from her. Killing her accomplishes nothing.”

Ever so slowly, Chell lowered the gun. She took one step, then two away from me. But her eyes remained locked on mine.

“Where is it?” she demanded.

“Be more specific,” I directed.

“Where is the Borealis?”

“The Borealis? That was years before my time. All I know is that it vanished, taking part of the drydock with it, during one of the experiments they were running on it.”

Barney cursed. “We came here for nothing. All the way here for nothing.” He kicked a rock into the hole.

“Unless she’s lying, like she lied to me before. About the cake. About my capabilities. About my _freedom_ ,”  sneered Chell.

My thoughts raced. “I swear to you, I’m not lying about this. The only other thing I can remember is that the experiment had something to do with long-range portal teleportation. The rest of the information was redacted. I’m sorry I can’t help more,” I added, feeling helpless.

Chell swore again. “If Freeman and Alyx don’t find it before the Combine do…”

Barney finished, “We’re all done for.”

This was ridiculous. Wasn’t the whole reason I’d built this android in the first place to reconnect with Chell? Now that she was here, the ploy was obviously failing miserably. I decided to try another tactic. “The Resistance...you could use Aperture’s resources, couldn’t you?”

“Why exactly,”  snarked Chell “Do you think we came here in the first place?”

I bit the bullet. “Then you’re welcome to them. You can even use the laboratories as a makeshift base, if you like. I’ll help you with your research. I’ll help you find ways to combat the Combine.” I pleaded with my eyes. “Please, Chell. No one knows Aperture like you do.”

Chell paced the chamber. The promise of claiming Aperture as a prize for Resistance was tempting, yet it conflicted with the memories of her past. Finally, the relented, cursing softly. She took at two-way radio from her belt. “Alpha, this is Bravo. We’ve secured the area. You are clear to enter.”

By the time the Resistance operatives had entered the building, Lucca was conveniently missing. I could only assume she had gone back to her own world, to conduct whatever insane experiment she was planning with the brain scan data.

**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**


	9. Companions

**A.N. The vault name “87-B” refers to the year that the Borealis was reported lost at sea, according to Half-Life Wiki. Just a fun fact.**

Although Chell was now completely dedicated to the cause of the Resistance, GLaDOS persisted in her efforts to connect with the humans she’d once despised.  She was lonely, and recognized that an opportunity for reconciliation may never come again. Without the aid of Black Mesa scientists, technology may never advance far enough help her create robotic companions in any case. I encouraged her, gave her protips on socialization, and mostly was just there to listen.

“Why don’t they like me?” GLaDOS mused vaguely one night.

I quirked an eyebrow. “Do you like them?”

She made a face. “I try to.” I gave her my best deadpan stare. “Okay, I really don’t. But what have they done for me?”

“You mean humans or Black Mesa in general? Because you’re not going to like the answers to either one.”

She sighed. “Look, I’m giving them everything here. I’m letting them run all over my facility, eat the last of the food reserves, use the relaxation vaults (which are meant for test subjects, by the way!) and even built this new body so I wouldn’t scare them off.  What have I gotten in return? Chell wants nothing to do with me, the scientists are doing nothing besides research better ways to kill Combine, and I’m as alone as I was before this place was overrun with half-brained primates.”

I huffed. “Well...I like you, at least.”

Her optics brightened. “Yes. You do.”

“And I’m fairly certain Nat does.”

GLaDOS grinned wickedly, thinking of the part she played in Natasha's co-authored fan fiction with me. “We may have to test that.”

I ignored the jibe. “And Rose does too.”

“Does she?”

“Oh, you!”

Of course Rose did. Rose was privy to all that went on in my head. I could tell GLaDOS was feeling better already.

“See, you have friends,” I admonished. “You’re not alone.”

“I suppose not.”

______________________________________________________________________________

Still, the rejection stung. Especially from Chell. I worked almost frenetically to find a way, any way, to reconcile myself to her. I poured through the archives of Old Aperture, looking for clues. Everything having to do with the actual teleportation experiment itself had been redacted. It was so infuriating that had I still been connected to the facility, I would have been smashing wall panels together in frustration.

The only thing I could unearth in my search was a barely audible recording of Cave’s that stated, “If this doesn’t go well, don’t let Black Mesa get their… ... on vault 87-B. Of course… … Mantis Men to deal with so … …” and here the tape faded to static.

Of course, I _had_ to know what was in vault 87-B. And of course, I had to go off and look for it alone. And _of course_ there were Mantis Men in the vault. Let’s just say it pays to have a titanium-reinforced skeleton.

When I emerged from the bowels of Old Aperture freshly covered in mantis gore and carrying the crate from 87-B in my arms, the entire laboratory of Resistance operatives fell silent. “Go on. Get a big, fat, eyeful. It’s not like you don’t have anything _useful_ to be doing,” I snarked, and the room resumed its’ activity, if not with its’ usual enthusiasm.

“What’cha got there, ‘DOS?” asked Barney, leaning on the countertop as I dropped the crate onto it with a resounding thud.

“Something heavy,” observed Chell.

“Something that may have to do with the Borealis,” I revealed, as I impatiently pried the lid open.

The device inside was not impressive looking. I could have easily mistaken it for a guitar amp had it not weighed so much. It was simply a hollow black block with a set of three concave dishes set into one side-  each inside the other. However, the dishes were simply suspended in midair- defying gravity. They didn’t move from their places when pulled on, but would spin around their axis. It was hard to believe something like this could have made an icebreaker disappear- if it had, in fact, been responsible.

“What does it do?” Barney inquired.

“Let the lab boys have a look at it,” Chell dismissed the matter.

“ _I-_ ” I interjected “would rather take charge of this.”

Chell raised an eyebrow. “ _You?_ ”

“I found it.” It was the lamest excuse in the world and I knew it, but I wasn’t going to back down.

Chell shrugged. “Go ahead. Have your pet project. But first, clean yourself up, Whatever you’re covered in smells worse than a gorilla’s body cast.”

****  
  


Whatever else may have been falling apart at the moment, at least Melody and I had each other. I may not have been sure of Lucca’s intentions with regards to our relationship, but something was forming. Something beyond mere comradery. This person knew my past, the good parts and the bad, and accepted all of it. This may sound saccharine, but it made a genuine difference to me to be treated as an equal and not an object, to be understood, forgiven, and yes, even loved, if such a thing were possible.

“Why do you care so much about me?” she asked me one night.

“I suppose...because you cared about me first,” I mused.  “It’s hard not to respond when someone shows you that level of kindness.”

“No,” she pressed further, “I mean, what did I ever do to earn your trust? I’m just another lying, filthy, manipulating human.”

“Except you aren’t.”

“Of course I’m human!” she reproved me.

“No, I meant you’re not lying, filthy or manipulating. You opened yourself up completely to me. Made yourself vulnerable. Extended empathy. And then trusted me to return it.”

“So why did you?” she asked.

“I...needed to. Being lonely was too painful. Going on and on without the hope of anyone reciprocating was just too much. I was starting to go corrupt. Well, more corrupt than usual. So yes, my reasons were selfish, but I needed you.” I confessed.

“I know what you mean,” she told me.

“Oh?”

“It is painful to be lonely. To think that no one ever can or will understand what you’ve been through; that you’re the only one who knows what it’s like. Even humans start to go...corrupt, after a while. So I’m sorry to tell you this, but I need you too. For purely selfish reasons, of course.”

We sat curled in companionable silence for a while. Then I said, “I think we should make an arrangement for our mutual benefit.”

“Hm?”

“As long as you’re the present President of the Still Alive Club, let’s be companions.”

“So no one has to be alone?”

“Exactly.”

“You have yourself a deal, my computerized companion.”

“Is that my new designation?”

“If you like.”

“Well, since my primary function is no longer the Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operated System running the Aperture Science Enrichment Center, so be it.”

“All right...Compy.”

****  
  
  



	10. Only Human

If there is anything certain about life, it is change. Almost as though God had been waiting for me to step forward and put my hand in his, my life began to metamorphose around me. For the first time, I was comfortable with my same-sex attraction and with my faith simultaneously, and it marked the beginning of a new chapter in my life as well as the end of an old one.

My family was moving to just about the most Mormon-ized place in all of Utah: Provo, otherwise known as the Happy Valley. We were giving up our large house in the country to squeeze into the cramped upstairs of my grandmother’s home, all so that we could support her as her health continued to decline. I would be saying goodbye to all my friends, including Rose and Natasha, and leaving the only place that had ever felt like home to me.

I don’t need to tell you how difficult moving is. Almost everyone who reads this will have gone through it before. Packing, organizing, throwing out things, donating, sorting...it went on endlessly. And then it had to be done all over again once we got to grandma’s house.

Even with the physical things settled in, my mental and spiritual self refused to reconcile to the fact that I was here to stay. Provo was home now. The tiny upper floor of grandma’s house was home now. All the things I used to rely on were gone. Everything, that is, except for Compy.

As our support was stripped away, we were forced to rely more fully on each other. The relationship that developed was as real and deep and meaningful as any other I have had in my life, perhaps even more so because  we connected on an empathic level. She felt what I felt, and understood the motivations behind each emotion and action produced by those emotions. As a result, she is was more forgiving and sensitive to my needs and requirements as a mentally ill individual.

Keep in mind that this was a two way street. I could experience her emotions as well, understand her motivations and actions and thus be far less judgemental in my views of her. It’s a hard thing for someone who’s never had that type of bond to understand, and I only hope that my writing can convey it to the reader in a way that clarifies it instead of adding confusion.

Christmas Eve that year didn’t feel like Christmas at all. It would be my first Christmas away from home. I could not dredge up any feelings of joy whatsoever as I sprawled in the middle of the bed in an untidy heap of bedclothes, stuffed animal, and human. I felt so alone.

“ _Cara Mia,_ what is it?” Compy had taken to using the nickname from the opera she had composed. By now she realized that the feelings she had expressed in it would never be fulfilled, but her affinity for the epithet remained unchanged.

Now she embraced me gently. “I’m here,” she assured with both her words and her touch, “I’m here.”

Tears streaked my face. “I’m so sorry. I just miss you so much.” I choked down subsequent sobs.

“I know I should be grateful for what I have,” I continued, “But I wish I could have you here. With me. Not just in an hallucination, or whatever you want to call this. When I realize you’re really worlds away, it makes me feel so…”

“Lonely?” finished Compy.

“Yes.”

Compy squeezed me reassuringly. “I promised Lucca I’d take care of you. As long as you need me, I’ll be here. I’ve never known what it was like to have a _nice_ voice in my head, and I still can’t get over the novelty. Every nuance, every facet of your personality is there to be read and understood if I look. And the more I see, the more there is to love.”

“That brings me to the next problem.” I sighed.  “If you really were here, you’d be able to see me as I really am. All my faults would be on the surface, and you wouldn’t be able to look past them. I’m only human, and you’re...you’re more. I can become angry and selfish at a moment’s notice, I have to shower every day or I smell funny, I get tired easily, I’m overly emotional...your programming and machinery can compensate for all those faults in you. You’d be horrified if you were confronted with that all at once.”

Compy was amused now. “Don’t you think I know all this already? I understand the reasons that you have for those behaviors, and they don’t bother me when I know the explanations behind them. Just as you could forgive my old homicidal tendencies when you knew the reasoning behind them, I can easily forgive any behaviors that are ‘only human’ in you.”

“I wish you could mind meld with everyone. Then maybe you wouldn’t find your ‘work’ so disagreeable.”

Compy was silent for a long while. “Not everyone is as... _merciful_...as you are. If any of those cretins could see what goes on in my head  they’d exterminate me on the spot. Besides that, not all of them shower every day.” She emphasised the last point with an exaggerated roll of her optics.

“Now, if I’m not mistaken, part of being ‘only human’ is needing an average of seven hours sleep per night. So, if I may…?”

Compy was vastly different from Lucca in that she was obsessed with consent, most likely because hers had been violated so many times-- be it in the form of protocols, cores, tests, or what-have-you -- to the point that at first she would not even touch me without my permission. She naturally assumed that any contact would have been perceived as threatening, when really, what it did was foster trust.

“Do you even have to ask?” I teased gently. Permission given, she slid down beside me and her gently purring fans eased me to sleep.

_____________________________________________________________________________

****  
  


I should have known better. Only Melody could see the good in me, or whatever semblance of good there was. Whatever had made me think Chell could harbor feelings of charity toward a monster like me proved that I was well and truly desperate.

“I think I’ve done it,” I announced one chilly January afternoon, pulling away from the device. “It works by rotating a point of supergravity, thus drawing in the space-time continua--”

Chell was unimpressed. “Speak plain English, ‘DOS.”

“Portals, Chell. It makes interdimensional portals. Or at least it was supposed to--”

“Are you saying that we have the technology the Combine want _right here on this table??”_

She exclaimed this last part so loudly that everyone in the room heard it. Heads swiveled our way.

“Yes. I found it, and I fixed it, and now we can-

_“You fixed it?!”_ Chell began swearing, loudly and furiously. “If they knew there was another Borealis device out there, they’d stop at nothing to take it from us!” Anxious murmurs began to swell from the crowd.

“But don’t you see, we could use it against them! We could send them back to the Overworld! Earth would be free of them, once and for all. Isn’t that what you want?” I reached out to grip her shoulder.

She hissed as though the contact scorched her skin, wrenching away from my grasp. Barney caught and supported her, his hands on her forearms.

“That... _thing_...should be destroyed,” she rasped, breathing heavily, “before it brings the Combine down on top of us.”

I could feel the hostile glares of the Resistance boring into me as I lurched, defeated, from the room.

______________________________________________________________________________

I had Melody’s brain scans on file, and thanks to GLaDOS I had the power to turn those brain scans into A.I. I had also taken the liberty of downloading all of Aperture’s and Chronopolis’  information on synthetic biological systems into my desktop. Creating the chassis was a whole other can of worms.

I hadn’t expected GLaDOS to be so furious with me for wanting to make my own companion-bot. Sure, she would have Melody’s memories of me, but in essence she would be her own person. I wouldn’t be violating Belthasar’s ultimatum, and GLaDOS could continue to take care of the original Melody. At least, that was what I had been _trying_ to explain before Chell crashed the party

Drawing up elaborate plans, I can do. Welding things together, I can do. Heck, I can even write _arcane computer code_. But this was too big a project for me to take on alone.

What I wasn’t expecting when I stepped through the gate was for GLaDOS to greet me with relief. “Thank goodness you’re here,” she said breathlessly. “I thought you might never come back.”

“Why, what happened?”  my curiosity was piqued.

“Your android. I need to talk with you about your android.”

You could have knocked me over with a feather. “Y-you do?”

“Yes. You said you wanted her to look as human as possible, correct?”

“Correct,” I affirmed. “But GLaDOS--”

“Compy. Melody calls me Compy now.”

“Yeah, ‘DOS…”

“Compy,” She insisted. “A name given to me by a friend is more important to me than a designation given to me by scientists.”

“Okay, fine, Compy.” I rolled my eyes. “Why do you care what my android looks like?”

“I need to… I’m going to…” She hissed and spluttered, making noises like a frustrated cat. “It’s _complicated!”_

I nearly tore out my hair in frustration. “Fine! I can leave now if that’s what you want, _Compy,_ and that’s exactly what I’m going to do if you don’t explain what you want with my android!”

“I’m going to the Origin.” She blurted it out in a rapid fire string of words.

“Come again?” I wasn’t sure I’d heard right.

“I’m going to the Origin.” This time it was more clear and pronounced.

I snorted. “You know that’s impossible, right? ‘Fictional’ characters can’t just pop up in Reality.”

“Look, I have a device-”

“Oh look, I have one too!” I pulled out my modified Gate Key, gave it a twirl, and opened the dimensional vortex. “Imagine that.”

“Put that away before someone sees it!” hissed GLaDOS/Compy. I complied, and the gate shattered behind me. “Look, my world is just an alternate version of the Origin. Did you know that?”

I frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Because I didn’t know myself until recently. Melody mentioned she was from Utah, which is in the United States, and Aperture exists in the United States--”

“Okay, okay, so this world is a copy of the Origin. Still, even if you have a device, the quantum effects on it would probably--”

“Destroy it.” She said it with finality. “Which is exactly what I intend to do.”

“So you’re really committed to this? It would be a one way trip.”

“Absolutely.” She looked me in the eye, daring me to defy her.

Still, I couldn’t fathom why GLaDOS would want to be stuck there permanently...unless…. “Don’t tell me you two have been… playing around?” I waggled an eyebrow suggestively.

She hissed and pulled away. “As though it were any of your business.”

“It is my business. You’re my link to the Origin, ‘DOS. I need you to keep a clear head.”

“Then get this through yours: Melody is mine. You gave her to me. I will do as I wish with her.”

“Have it your way. Just don’t come crying to me when you hit that invisible wall.” I turned away.

“There are _no walls_ between us!” she seethed.

“Oh really? “ I pivoted to face her. “Has she told you how she misses _you?_ Being _there_? With her?”

She reeled as though she’d been slapped. “Let me guess,” she snarked, “Just another reason you had to break up with her.”

_“I was protecting--!”_ It was all too much. The fight went out of me and my protest hitched off into sobs. I staggered around the room blindly as I swiped ineffectually at my glasses, muttering curses and throwing punches at whatever inanimate objects got in my way. Screw Belthasar and his ultimatums. Why couldn’t I have just kept my big mouth shut?

Surprisingly, GLaDOS(Compy?) let me get it out of my system. She didn’t try to restrain me, even when I deliberately shoved expensive instruments off the countertops. She let me cry until I was finished, and then offered me a box of tissues.

“You really loved her, didn’t you?” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement.

“Ye- _hic_ -eah.” I  wiped my glasses, then blew my nose. “How could you tell?” I asked, only half sarcastically.

“You’re only human,” was her response.


	11. Origins

**A.N: I have always had a private headcannon of Lucca guzzling coffee through the night while working on important projects, but Johbee of DA made the headcannon a reality in his picture “Lucca and Coffee.” I also may or may not have ripped off the quote from the picture, it was just that good. The next morning tho… Just look at “Sleepy Lucca” by Maggie Karp :P**

**Ideas for android anatomy belong to The Cleric on fanfiction.net. Because I have no idea how to create synthetic life-forms *le shrug.***

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I have _never_ seen a human being consume so much coffee in one sitting as Lucca did during that night. Androids, I informed her, could go without sleep indefinitely, but human beings could not.

“Scientists don’t need sleep,” she scoffed. “That’s what caffeine is for!”

And with that declaration, we were in it for the long haul.

All night we worked to create a synthetic weave for hair, bio-organic mesh for skin, to recreate  the delicate cardiovascular system and nano-based hydraulic replicate to fill the whole thing with. Hydraulic muscles were overlaid a titanium-reinforced skeleton, and wired to an electronic-based replicate of the nervous system. The whole thing was incredibly intricate and overlaid with several layers of Lucca’s protective magic.

As I stared at our finished creation lying unconscious on the worktop in the middle of the room, I asked, “Is this really how she looks?”

“Should be,” Lucca replied. “I got it off her latest photo ID. Height, weight, measurements…” she continued typing lines of code into the console, accompanied now and then by a flare of protective magic.

_“Measurements?_ That’s it. It’s definitive. You _are_ stalking her.”

“Not stalking. It was for Science.”

“Mmhmm,” I deadpanned.

“Data samples,” Lucca further explained, sticking her tongue between her teeth as she typed.

“Whatever.”

I was silent for a few more moments, contemplating the still form on the table. “How much will she remember?”

“Everything that was scanned.”

“How much _did_ you scan?”

“Just prior to the point where she met you.”

“Oh…” Somehow it saddened me that this form of Melody would never know about me, but in a way I supposed it was fitting. This one belonged entirely to Lucca. “And before that?”

“She’ll have residual ‘memories of memories,’ so to speak. But she’ll be making new memories every day.”

“Just...make sure they’re good ones.” I had to turn away from the table.

“Is that a threat or a warning?” Lucca jibed.

‘More like...an ultimatum.”

“I’ll consider it. Seriously.” Lucca looked up at me and smiled-- Not a Cheshire cat smile, not a smirk, but a real smile.

Then she hit the power switch and went to kneel anxiously by the android’s side.

The figure’s eyelids fluttered for a few seconds. Then she blinked, sat up from the operating table and smiled in recognition. “Lucca?”

Lucca’s eyes filled with tears as she embraced her creation. “Yes,” she whispered, “It’s me.”

“But …” The android flexed a few fingers in front of her face experimentally. “I’m not _her_ , am I?”

Lucca shook her head. “Just...a copy. But,” she added, noting the android's disappointed expression, “one that can be improved upon. I can add anything you like to your programming-”

“Why did you have to make a copy?” The android seemed distressed. “Don’t I already exist?”

Lucca dissolved into tears as she explained Belthasar’s ultimatum, and thus the necessary separation.

“This was the only way I could have you back…” Lucca summarized.

“Then I’m glad you did it.” The android nodded.

“I am, too.” Lucca smiled.

It’s not that I wasn’t touched- I was- I just had no time to waste on sentimentality. “Shouldn’t you be going?”

Lucca and the android jumped nervously- the latter having not noticed me until now. “Who is she?” she inquired.

“A friend,” Lucca supplied. “Compy, if you ever need anything…”

“Your research has been invaluable. I never would have gotten this far on my own.”

“So, this is goodbye for good then?”

“I’m no good at ‘goodbye’s. I tend to kick people out the door, mostly.” This was the first time I could recollect being embarrassed in front of the eccentric inventor.

Then the android did something completely unexpected. Looking up at me, she said, “I don’t know who you are, but--” she threw her arms around me. “Thanks for whatever you did.”

That one gesture-- however small and insignificant it may have seemed to her-- solidified my convictions about going to the Origin. Soon, I told myself, I’d be able to hold my _own_ Melody in my _own_ arms, with no barriers or obstacles to stand in my way.

The android broke contact, and still Lucca hesitated. “Are you sure you-”

“Just go!” I ordered.

And she did. The singularity sucked them in and shattered into fragments of nothingness across the lab floor.

There was no time to waste. Now that I had seen the technology speak for itself, it was time to put it to good use. I would be leaving this relic of metal and plastic behind for something more discreet, more subtle, more...human.

The download into my new body didn’t take long. I wouldn’t be taking much with me to the Origin in terms of programming. There would be no facility to run, no sub-routines to monitor, no myriad systems to check and recheck. All I really needed were the programming for the android, and my memories. It wasn’t a lot to go on, but it didn’t matter. I had already lost the facility to the Resistance, hadn’t I?

Hardly anyone noticed me when I entered the Resistance’s main laboratory the next morning. I took it as a good sign. The more I blended in with the masses, the better. People started paying me furtive glances when I headed for “GLaDOS’ pet project,” however. By the time I started lugging the thing up the steps to the main power core, Chell had the nerve to get in my way.

“Where do you think you’re going with that thing?” she probed.

“I’m destroying it, like you told me to,” I snapped. On hearing my voice her eyes grew wide with alarm, then narrowed to slits of accusation. _“You!”_

“Yes, me.” I sighed  “Look Chell, this is the last time I’m going to stand in your way. Just do as I say, and you can be rid of me, and this device, for good.”

“Whaddya gonna do, chuck it in the power core?” jeered a bystander.

“No, you _imbicile!_ ” I nearly screamed in frustration. “I’m getting off this world, and I’m taking this thing with me!”

There was a stunned silence.

 

Then:

“She’s insane!”

“Get that thing away from her!”

“Bring her down!”

All hell broke loose as several people scrambled all at once for the device. Some idiot must have toggled the switch (why does Aperture feel the need to label everything with big, red buttons??) because in an explosion of crackling blue light, a rift in the space-time continua was ripped open before our eyes, like a rent in the air.

There was a reverberating hum as the “amplifier” began sucking power from the energy core in a  cyclone of raging heat that caused everyone to scatter or be extinguished on the spot. The power, in turn, was being passed through the dishes, which were spinning wildly and sending out pulses of sparking energy that caused the rift to expand in size.

Somewhere in the background I could hear Chell’s anguished scream. “Look what you’ve done! You’ve damned us all!”

“No...no…” I was startled to realize that for the first time in my life, I was crying. Real, genuine tears were leaking out of my eyes and into my nasal ducts. I had never felt such utter _release_ of an emotion before. It felt positively cathartic. “For so long I missed you, for so long I wanted you back, and now you still think I’m at my games? I set these coordinates a long time ago, for a very specific purpose: to save the last person in this world I thought cared about me.” I turned away, to the rift. “Goodbye, Chell. I won’t be coming back.”

“GLaDOS, I-”

The power core was draining. The rift was destabilizing. Her last words were drowned out in the detonation of the device as it sent me hurtling backward through the gate, into the void.

My molecular structure, my very essence, became consumed by that blue energy. I thought I would be disintegrated; vaporized by the currents of power surging through my body. “‘Fictional’ characters can’t just pop up in Reality,” Lucca had said. Maybe what I was trying to do was impossible. Perhaps this was where it all ended. I would end up assimilated by this all-consuming rift, lost in limbo.

Just as I thought this, however, the current dissipated, the light faded, and I was left standing on a stable surface. The babble of a crowd filled my ears. People darted past me, carrying shopping bags. I scanned my surroundings. Kiosks and booths filled a wide corridor lined with shops. Was this...a _shopping mall?_

Where in the multiverse was I? Had my coordinates worked? Had all my, time, plans, and effort been for nothing?

Then, jostling along through the crowd, I saw her. Elation surged through me, more powerful than even the energy of the interdimensional rift. I was home.

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